


If Bacon Kills Me

by Nikolaus_Chaser



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bacon, Brothers, Deaf Dean Winchester, Dean is a Little Shit, M/M, Tattooed Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 20:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14003679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikolaus_Chaser/pseuds/Nikolaus_Chaser
Summary: Dean is kind of the biggest little shit on the planet.A fic inspired by this picture: http://bee-does-art.tumblr.com/post/171556374702/dean-with-tattoos-and-a-hearing-aid-because-this of Dean with tattoos and a  hearing implant.





	If Bacon Kills Me

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1: Canon divergent AU at the beginning of13x14.

 

Reposted with permission from [bee-does-art](http://bee-does-art.tumblr.com/): "Dean with tattoos and a hearing aid because this is a good and wholesome AU"

The bunker kitchen smells like pancakes and fresh bacon.  The latter sizzles away in the pan on the stove, and Dean hums a soft tune as he flexes an arm reaching for some eggs to crack on the side of aforementioned pan.  Castiel shuffles into the room with pajama pants hanging low on his hips, sweatshirt pulled hastily over his torso. He’s still rubbing sleep from his eyes when he comes up to Dean, plants a sloppy good-morning kiss right over the watercolor carnation tattooed on his neck, and serves several buttery pancakes on to a plate for himself.

“Sleep good, Cas?"  Dean asks, throwing a smirk over his shoulder as Cas settles in at the kitchen table.  He nods, stuffing a generous forkful of soft, fluffy pancake into his mouth and sighing pleasantly at the sweet, buttery taste.  Perfect pancakes don’t need syrup, and Dean Winchester’s cooking is proof of that.

“I slept great, as you know,” he rumbles, eyes raking up and down Dean’s lithe body, toned legs and big muscles that bulge out of the worn AC/DC t-shirt he’s wearing.  The fabric is soft and faded from frequent washing, so the collar hangs low and exposes Dean’s clavicle, exposes the extensive expanse of tattoos that color his neck and chest and arms.  Castiel smiles, hiding a yawn behind the back of his right hand, and pats the seat beside him with his left. “Why don’t you come sit with me?”

Dean grins.  “Okay,” he says, and switches the burner off, carrying the pan filled with bacon over to the table and setting it down.  He reaches out to steal a sliver of pancake off the corner of Castiel’s plate. He laughs when Cas pouts back at him, and he holds out a piece of crispy bacon, poking the angel’s chapped lips with it.  Castiel lifts his eyebrows, then smiles and opens his mouth to take a bite of the crunchy bacon strip.

“Maybe after breakfast, we can hit the library?  There’s a whole section dedicated to spacetime that Sam and I haven’t gotten the chance to crack into yet.  Might give us some useful info for rescuing Mom and Jack,” Dean says, crunching on the other end of that bacon strip and reaching for another.

“That’s a good idea.  We should start going through the archives after you’re done with your bacon,” he says smiling fondly as Dean crams some more bacon in his mouth.  His arms flex, the line art tattoo on his forearm of a plate of bacon and eggs shifting a little when his muscles move.

Sam walks into the kitchen, drawn in by the smell of breakfast and the sound of early-morning conversation. He lifts his eyebrows at the veritable pile of bacon in front of his brother, scoffing.  “Don’t you think you should take it a little easy on the nitrates?” He asks, pulling a classic little brother bitch-face. Dean shrugs, lifting a slice of bacon to his lips and loudly crunching down.

“Dude, if bacon’s what kills me, then I win,” he grunts.  Sam rolls his eyes.

“Seriously, man.  Your heart is probably encased with fat by now, between the burgers, bacon and booze,” he says.  Dean narrows his eyes at his brother, lifting his hand and scratching behind his ear, then turning his attention back to the plate in front of him.  “You should come on a jog with me one morning and see if you like it. Cardio is good for your heart,” he carries on, heading over to the cabinet and pulling down a box of cheerios, grabbing some almond milk from the fridge.  He glances over at Dean as he’s pouring the milk into his bowl, frowning when he sees that his brother doesn’t even seem to be paying attention. “I know you’re rolling your eyes at me, jerk. And before you say it again, sex doesn’t count as cardio.”

“I don’t believe he can hear you, Sam,” Castiel says, helpfully.  Sam’s eyebrows crease and he sets the milk jug down, stepping closer to the table.

“What do you mean, he can’t—,” Sam’s eyebrows hitch up and down, his lips twisting into a scowl as he stomps around the side of the table and looks at his brother’s face, peering closely at his ears.  Dean doesn’t flinch at all, simply lifting another piece of bacon to his lips and munching away without consequence.  That's when Sam reaches out, scowling, and snatches Dean’s hearing aid right from his ear.  Finally, Dean looks up, blinking up at his brother with a frown and holding his hand out for Sam to give the hearing implant back.

“You’re an asshole, Dean,” Sam grunts, even though he knows his brother can’t hear him, and closes the battery case so that the hearing aid turns back on.  Even though Dean can’t hear what he’s saying Sam is pretty sure he understands, because he’s smirking like the cat that got the cream when Sam slaps the implant back into his palm.

Dean smiles smugly and fits the hearing aid back into his ear, adjusting it until it’s comfortable, and then he flexes his arm and cracks his knuckles, still greasy from handling all the bacon he’s consumed.  “Are you done lecturing me, Sammy? ‘Cause I don’t mind the silence,” he says, gesturing back towards his hearing aid again, threatening to turn it off again with the movement of his fingers. Sam rolls his eyes hard.

“Yeah, I’m done.  Meet me in the library,” he grunts, picks up his cereal and a coffee mug, and stomps out of the kitchen.  Dean chuckles, and reaches out to grab another slice of bacon.

“I win,” he says, smiles, and crams a little more bacon into his mouth.  Life is good.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE COMMENT!!!!!!!! Cheer me up <3 I WANNA KNOW WHAT UR THINKING :))))


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